


FINE LINE

by megthemewlingquim



Series: FINE LINE [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Album: Fine Line (Harry Styles), Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Romance, Break Up, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Making Love, Masturbation, Oral Sex, References to Depression, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28195059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megthemewlingquim/pseuds/megthemewlingquim
Summary: A series is heavily inspired by the gorgeous album "Fine Line" by Harry Styles. A warning to all who read this series, it will follow the album's storyline as best as I can write it, and it will contain fluff, smut, and angst - and the angst includes references to depression and alcohol usage/addiction. Every chapter will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 P.M EST, both here on AO3 and on Tumblr (@megthemewlingquim) I heavily encourage you to listen to each song before reading - you can find the album on Spotify or anywhere you listen to music (also I encourage you to listen because it would mean supporting Harry Styles. Come on.).
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: FINE LINE [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065497
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. GOLDEN

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm back, and I apologize for not writing and publishing anything for like, two months. This is my triumphant return, and I'll be putting my heart and soul into this twelve chapter fic. I hope you like it! This is Chapter One - "GOLDEN".

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows that you're scared because he's so open.

As soon as his eyes find you, Loki Laufeyson knows he’s done for.

He’s absolutely _wrecked._ Head over heels. In love. Whatever you want to call it.

You remind him of his mother. You have her eyes. Or, maybe her eyes when she was a few eons younger - kind eyes, bright with youth and wide with awe. And he doesn’t blame you for it: Venice is gorgeous and every corner you turn presents something new. The sun shines and brightens your complexion, and you glow. You wear a yellow shirt and a black pair of ripped shorts. It’s amazing how something - someone - so normal can look so beautiful.

You’re _golden._

You pass a flower vendor, and his heart quickens when you smile at him.

The vendor, not Loki. You have a soft smile, but it’s white and full and lovely.

Oh, how Loki wants to look away and forget. For somehow, he knows that you’ll be the death of him, even with your tired eyes and your makeup-less complexion, if he ever sees them. He wants to leave, for he knows something here - present in you - will change him. For better or worse, no one knows, not even him.

But when you turn to leave, a bouquet of sunflowers in your hand and the vendor stuffing his dollar bills into his register, Loki blinks. And walks towards you.

Inwardly, he sighs with relief. _Thank the Norns,_ he mumbles in thought, _thank the Norns that no one recognizes me. Otherwise, I’d scare her off with the panic._

You seem to be in no hurry, even as the crowds become a little more hectic and the narrow sidewalks become more cramped.

He steps on something. He looks down, noticing a sunflower, crushed to bits under his shoe. Something within him causes him to gently laugh, and walk towards you again, leaving the flower on the gravel.

“Here, here —” he gasps when he thinks he’s able to be heard. You glance toward him, stopping in your tracks, and his heart flutters. You’re even more stunning up close.

You keep your glance bare, bland with confusion. He stops, too, but he shuffles nervously once he realizes you’re apprehensive.

“You’re dropping them,” he says after a pregnant pause. “The flowers, I mean.”

“I am?” you say, looking down at your sandaled feet. “Oh, thank you for telling me.” You look back up at him and smile. “I’ll be more careful now.”

He smiles upon seeing your own. “Yes, er, well…” he stammers, somewhat embarrassed at his very-unlike-himself first impression. “Beautiful city, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you say, looking around at the multicolored buildings around you, then at the crystal clear water below you. “It’s gorgeous.”

Another pause.

“I’m [Y/N].” You extend a hand, and he takes it. Slowly, he leans down, keeping his eyes on yours, and kisses it. You’re somewhat taken aback, but not enough to make you recoil or cringe in disgust. In fact, you’re flattered. _“Coucou,”_ you say cheerfully when he lets go of your hand.

“That’s French,” Loki notes, “not English or Italian…” He laughs. “‘Hello’ to you, too. I’m Loki.”

Your eyes widen with recognition. “Loki… you mean you’re the one who attacked New York? How many years ago was that?”

He winces. Of course _you’d_ recognize him. “Twelve,” he says. “However, I always have to tell everyone that that was against my will. I was being controlled.”

“By whom?”

“Thanos.”

“Oh.” You remember. Or, you remember hearing about it. The battle of 2023.

It’s a simple exchange. He’s surprised you believe him so easily, but you do. Already Loki seems extremely charming, so friendly. Also, it’s been years since Loki has actually done anything else to attack Earth…

“Would you… would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” Loki asks, letting the words slip out of his mouth and fall the gravel below him. There’s some hesitation in saying them. “Or maybe just get some coffee some afternoon?”

You hesitate, as expected.

You’ve had your heart broken before. It’s never, ever fun. Someone who at first seems so caring and kind turns out to be a heartless, cruel bastard with no regard for you. 

And Loki himself seems so... so open.

It’s funny: you hesitate at _“dinner”_ but not _“I attacked New York but not by my own will”_.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” You swallow. “Thank you.”

He notices your hesitation. “You don’t… You don’t have to be scared. Believe me, I understand why you might be. You’ll be alright. But it’s up to you.”

 _That’s not why I’m scared, though,_ you think.

It’s been a while since you’ve been with someone, you realize. You’ve been lonely for too long, laying in an otherwise empty bed for what has seemed like ages. One thought races through your mind:

_I don’t wanna be alone._

You take a breath. “Yeah, that’d be fun, actually. Something nice.” You smile, truthfully. “Thank you, Loki.”

He smiles back, overjoyed. “Of course, [Y/N]. I’d love to get to know you. You already seem wonderful. Do you know of any good restaurants down here in this gorgeous city?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say. “There’s a really nice coffee shop around this corner, actually. And there’s one over a block... There’s really a lot of cafés and stuff over here...”

A thought lingers at the back of his mind: _That was very fast. I’m surprised._

He shrugs it off, wordlessly offering to help you carry your sunflowers.


	2. WATERMELON SUGAR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe him in, breathe him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Two of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Watermelon Sugar, the first song I actually listened to by Harry (as a solo artist). I know he means for the meaning of this song to be open-ended but come on, we all know that this song is about doing the dirty.   
> I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Saturday at 12:00 PM EST.  
> A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.
> 
> There is smut in this chapter, but it is quite brief. If you want to skip this chapter but still know what it was about, just message me on Tumblr and ask me. I don't mind at all. :)

The sun shines, and the waves of the ocean crash onto the rocks and the shores of the beach. The sand is a beautiful white, and people laugh and talk as they lay on it, relishing in each others’ company.

And you are no exception to this. Loki lays beside you, on a pink blanket that you brought. He had mumbled, “I’m not laying on that,” but once he saw you lay down, he sighed, though not with annoyance, and went to join you.

“I’m not used to this heat,” he says. Black sunglasses cover his green eyes, but you can tell he has his eyes on the water in front of you. “I was born on a planet of snow. I am forever cold. But this… this feels quite nice.”

You can hear laughter and cheers from a group of people to your left. They are all dressed in bathing suits and sunglasses, and they lay on towels as well. It seems they are being well-fed as well, as they all snack on fruit — you can see some of them eating watermelon slices. As you glance over to them, you see other people, people who are not in the original group, being offered the fruits as well.

“Want some watermelon, sugar?” you ask, a grin on your face.

“Hm?” Loki asks. “What’s that?”

It takes a second for you to register it. “Wait, you’ve—” you stammer in disbelief, “you’ve never…” You stand up, looking determined. “You’ve never had watermelon? I’m getting you some.”

“Love, you don’t have to —” Loki tries to object.

“Nope, you’ve awakened my curious side. I wanna see how you like it.” You grin down at him again. “Hold on a second.” With that, you start to speed-walk down the sand.

Loki looks at you as you leave. His eyes roam all over you, and they spend a second longer on your ass than anything else. You wear a thin, small pair of bikini bottoms, and your legs are waxed and smooth.

He sighs, contentedly, laying completely on his blanket, letting the sun warm his face and his bare chest. He closes his eyes. He knows he can’t sleep, not in this midday sun, but simply resting is good enough for him now.

A cool drop of something lands on his face a few minutes later, and it startles him a bit. However, he relaxes when he realizes it’s just you standing above him, holding something in your hand. 

“Eat up, babe.”

Loki reaches up and swipes the drop of the wet something off his face. Tentatively, he licks it. “Hm,” he muses. “That’s sweet.”

“Try biting it, you’ll love it.” With a little grunt, you sit next to him again, offering him a piece of watermelon. He takes it.

After a bite and some slow chewing, he hums again in approval. “That’s nice. Quite refreshing.”

“Glad you like it,” you say cheerfully. You nod over to the party to your left. “Y’know, those people were awfully friendly. Extremely kind. Very, uh, open and cheerful. They didn’t seem to care about whether or not anyone was a stranger, they let them join anyway. It was just…” You stop, trying to search for the words. “Love all around. There was plenty of food to go around, more than just watermelons — also raspberries and blueberries. They were awfully cuddly, too.”

“Perhaps they’re on something,” Loki says smugly. “Maybe they’re all high.”

“You might think that, but maybe that’s because it’s not… not widely accepted to be cuddly and open in public.” You roll your eyes, though not at him. “Why can’t everyone just treat people with kindness?”

“You’re human. You have your faults. Those people? They might’ve just learned to move past them. We can all learn from them, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” you say. “They might also just be relishing in the fact that we can be close to each other again. Physically, I mean. I don’t know if you were here in 2020, but... uh, there was a —”

“I remember,” Loki smirks, though not at the unfortunate memories of what had happened back then. “Perhaps we can learn from them about that, too… would you like to stay here until dark, my love? We could walk around, do whatever it is you humans do in the ocean, find some supper, just spend the whole day here?”

“What’s that look on your face for?” you chuckle. “Do you have something planned?”

He gasps, faking surprise. “My darling, why would you ever think that? It’s just an innocent day at the beach. Besides, they’re not getting… too intimate.”

“What’s ‘too intimate’ supposed to mean?” you ask, a little something creeping into your head and making you smile.

He smirks but says nothing. Instead, he changes the subject. “Did you meet anybody when you went down to that group of people?”

Playfully, you roll your eyes at him. “Everyone there said hello, but I really didn’t get to talk to anyone besides this one man. He was dressed as if it were spring, not summer — he was wearing a multicolored shirt, a freakin’ _vest,_ and some sort of jeans. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he certainly looked nice. I also liked his nails, they were colored as well.”

You look at the water as you chew your fruit. “You’d look nice with black nails, maybe even green ones.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe…”

The day passes quite slowly, but you don’t mind. It stays hot and the sun stays visible. Clouds are almost nonexistent, which is always a plus when you want to swim.

Loki joins you, and you make great fun of splashing each other. When you go deeper into the water, he finds enjoyment in diving deep, coming up in front of you, holding your face in his hands, and kissing you before going back under. You’re taken aback the first few times, then you get the message and kiss him back with a breathy laugh.

Drowning is of no thought to you. You can swim, but even if you couldn’t, you know Loki would take care of you. He always stays close and you keep your eyes on each other.

When it gets a little later, you get out of the water and dry off. Many people have already left, including the little party you encountered. Only a few people remain, some of them in couples, and they either rest on their towels or walk on the shoreline.

“Could we stay here a little while longer?” Loki asks. “There’s one more thing I’d like to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say amiably, though you wonder what ‘one more thing’ might be.

You both wait until everyone else has left. By this time, you’ve put your shirt on, for your bathing suit has dried but it is getting colder. Loki has not put anything more on him. Perhaps he welcomes the cold.

When Loki starts to move, you look at him. He shuffles to you, practically crawling to you. You gasp as he lightly pushes you back onto your towel. Your head lands not on the hardness of sand but on a little pillow that was not there before.

“Loki, Loki, wh-what are you —”

He shushes you, and just that alone makes you shiver with arousal. “If you allow me, I would like to give you something… I’ve been here all day, resisting the urge to take you in front of all of those people. Do you know how difficult that was?”

“N-no,” you answer. “But —” You interrupt yourself with a nervous chuckle. “—knowing you, you probably couldn’t hold it in for long.”

“Hence,” he grins, looking down at you, his eyes lingering on your “quim”. He likes that word. He’s used it before. “Would you mind if I go down on you? I just wanna taste it. Maybe give you an orgasm. Whatever works for you.”

You nod frantically, but then you look around. No one else is on the beach, no one else is present to look at you.

“Do not worry about that,” Loki says when he notices your worried glances. He laces your fingers with his own, holding your hand and running his thumb across your skin in comforting little motions. “No one is here, sweetness, just look at me. Do that, or look up. I know how you are when I do this. Sometimes you’re too self-conscious to see me doing this to you with all my enthusiasm. So, if you want, look up. I won’t mind.”

You breathe out shakily, and your breath gets caught in your throat as you see Loki pull your bottoms to the side. Immediately, he begins, latching his tongue and lips to your most intimate parts. He licks and sucks all around, paying special attention to your clit — he knows what you like. Your stomach heaves as you breathe. 

“I don’t know if I could ever go without this,” he moans. “You’re so wonderful and... and warm...”

You established long ago that Loki actually takes pleasure from pleasuring you, but it never fails to catch you off guard.

After a particularly hard suck to your clit, you moan, and it is louder than intended.

Loki seems to like it. “Sounds just like a song. Sing for me.”

A laugh then. “Okay, Phantom.” When Loki looks up at you in confusion, you shake your head. “I’ll show you later.”

Soon, it’s not long before you’re squirming in your chair, breathing heavily as Loki holds you down. The coil in your gut is rising and rising fast. Loki’s drive to please you is incredible, and you can tell he’s determined.

You moan, quite shamelessly, out loud as you reach your end, and it takes quite a long time for you to regain your senses. Loki smiles up at you once he gets his mouth off of your quivering pussy. “Was that good, love?”

You laugh, breathlessly. “Yeah. Yeah, that was good. Thank you.”

You leave without saying much else about it. He takes you home and kisses you in the doorway as you move to leave. The sun is long gone, and the moonlight fills the air with a white glow.

You turn to close the door behind you.

In a split second decision, you pull him into the house, and he doesn’t resist. He stays the night, in your house and in your bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you want to, please leave comments and kudos, as they motivate me to keep creating and writing for you! Next week, I'll be releasing Chapter Three, "ADORE YOU" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


	3. ADORE YOU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd walk through fire for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Three of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Adore You. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Saturday at 12:00 PM EST.  
> A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER’S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER’S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

He gazes at you as if you’re his world. 

He has both loved you breathless and fucked you senseless, and yet there’s a fine line there, a grey area where the panting fades, the sweat dries and the warmth cools, and all that’s left is the afterglow. The afterglow where he fixes his eyes upon your every movement, every rise and fall of your chest, the dampness of your hair, and the blush on your cheeks. What has happened is still present, but it also gives way to a more quietly intimate moment.

You look down, your eyes falling to the spot where his elbow meets the mattress. Your eyes then move to his bare chest, then move back up.

“You’re avoiding my gaze,” Loki whispers. “What’s the matter?”

The matter is a very common thing: post-orgasm clarity. In the heat of the moment you’ve had no trouble believing that Loki wants you. And even now, that trouble is not there. But.

He still has not said what you’re hoping to hear from him the most.

“Please, don’t be mad…” you say as if you were a child confessing something to a parent. “Do… do you…”

Loki’s eyes soften. “Hey,” he says, running the back of his hand along your cheek. “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. What is it? What’s troubling you?”

The answer comes out as another question. “Do you love me?” you blurt out, wincing as the words leave your lips.

There’s a pause. You cannot tell if Loki is thinking carefully about what to say or hesitating entirely.

“I’d… I’d walk through fire for you,” he says after a while. His tone suggests that what he says could satisfy you. It does nothing to ease your mind.

“You’re not human. You wouldn’t be burned anyway.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Well, then what is the point?”

Neither of you is dreadfully upset with the other. You’re just confused, a little hurt.

“The point is… is that…” He takes a breath. “I’m afraid to say what you really want me to say. But I will say this:

“I get lost inside your eyes. They’re beautiful and have a world inside them.

“You’re wonder under summer sky. The first time I saw you it was underneath the June sky and every part of you was lit up. You were gorgeous, and you still are.

“Kissing you is something I will never get enough of. Especially when your strawberry lipstick is involved, your lips all red and smooth.

“Lately, you’ve been on my mind. And by ‘lately’, I mean since I met you. All I can think about is you. I wanna get to know you.”

You interrupt. “What are you afraid of? You’re afraid to answer me. Why? Is it because you’re afraid I’d reject you if you said ‘yes’? Or you don’t want to disappoint me by saying what I don’t want to hear?”

He sighs. “How do you feel about me?”

“I _love_ you,” you say, without hesitation.

“You don’t have to _say_ you love me, though. I don’t want you to. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Commitment?”

He changes the subject. “I _adore_ you. Isn’t that enough for now? Oh, honey, just let me adore you.”

He draws you closer, feeling you all over and locking his lips with your own for the umpteenth time that night. “It’s the only thing I’ll ever do.”

You pull away.

He looks at you, his eyes widening just slightly. You can hear his soft, almost non-existent breathing as he regains some thought. His fingers come off your skin just a little, but the fingertips still linger, just starting to caress you.

“Loki...” you mumble, avoiding his gaze once again. “I don’t... I don’t want to seem ungrateful. You know that. But... you’re not answering my question. You could just answer with a yes or no. It’s simple.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry. I know what you mean. I’m going too fast, aren’t I?”

Little by little, your heart continues to break. “No,” you say, “it’s not that. It’s just... I don’t want all this. I was never just looking for sex. I’m looking for _you.”_

“You have me,” he says with a sad smile. “Always.”

You move, getting up out of bed. He looks helpless, confused, and longing, like a dog who has been pet for less time than he would’ve liked. “Not like that,” you say sadly. “You _don’t_ know what I mean. You don’t. Not at all.”

You want him to hold you but you don’t. You want him to hold you tenderly, to keep you close, and to not let you go. But already, his fingers have begun to slip away.

He stays silent, then. Until,

“I can be better. I will. I’m not going to leave you alone. Baby...” he calls lightly. “Come back. Please.”

A sliver of hope comes back to you, but you know it is false. But, you sigh, holding onto it.

You come back to bed and let him hold you. You let him adore you. You accept it. You do, in fact, want what he offers. It’s not like you don’t. But you want him here for a different reason, one that you wouldn’t say to him for a long time. You relish in his touch, his presence, his smile, and his soothing words. You relish in the pleasure he gives you, in the loving words he moans out for you.

The worst part about it is that he doesn’t understand. Or, if he does, he won’t fix his wrongs. Or yours, even.

Unrequited love. It’s an arrow. It stings with ecstasy and with agony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you want to, please leave comments and kudos, as they motivate me to keep creating and writing for you! Next week, I'll be releasing Chapter Four, "LIGHTS UP" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


	4. LIGHTS UP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you know who you are?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Four of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Lights Up. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.  
> This chapter will probably be the shortest chapter in the series, as “Lights Up” is a shorter song and it’s not exactly about what I am writing about.  
> A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

You have tried to leave him alone, and he has tried to do the same. Neither of you can bring yourself to do it completely - Loki more than you.

But when you can, it’s like the both of you are shrouded in darkness, while other people nudge and feel their way around you, sometimes touching you or looking at you. But at the same time, you’re both completely alone. You don’t like it.

But how can you go back to what you had? It was a trainwreck, a disaster that was bound to happen.

For you - the fact that Loki never loved you. He only wanted you. It hurts. It fucking hurts, and it hurts even more when you have no one to hold you at night.

For Loki - the fear of commitment, and then you, walking out on him at 2 A.M. The loss of a body, the loss of your sweetness, the loss of your smile and your laugh and your kiss and your taste and your feel. 

It hurts both of you.

* * *

That night, you had confronted him. You did not cry, nor did you shout. You just stood there, your tired eyes and clenched fists telling him everything he needed to know. But you spoke anyway.

“You don’t love me.”

The God of Lies did not lie. “No.”

That should’ve been the end of it. It would’ve saved you a hell of a lot of pain. But you still went with it.

Your voice was heavy, but it still cracked. “I’m not ever going back. Not to this, not to your bed. It’s over.”

He sighed, then, a frustrated but defeated release. He said nothing. He knew he couldn’t argue with you, because you were right.

Your car keys jingled as you clutched them in your hand, walking toward the front door.

When you got into your car, you backed out of the driveway, barely able to see through your tears.

A week later, he texted you.

**hello.**

You didn’t respond.

 **i’m sorry, by the way,** came a day later.

Immediately, you picked up your phone, typing furiously.

**what the fuck do you mean ‘i’m sorry by the way’?**

He didn’t say anything to that. He left you alone.

While you sob yourself to sleep, smothering yourself in your sheets, Loki lays awake in his own bed. He has gone back to Asgard - even your home planet is too much for him now. He often thinks of things he should’ve said, or wants to say now. You would call them excuses.

_Do you know who you are?_

_Don’t get all philosophical on me now, Shakespeare. To be or not to be, huh?_

He smiles despite himself. You were never one for the dramatics, the theatrics. You had called philosophical conversations ‘pretentious at the wrong times’, and this - oh, this would’ve been a wrong time...

In the crowd, someone pushes past him: his brother, lit up with the green that covers Loki’s envious mind.

“Is something troubling you, brother?” Thor asks, passing by him in the Asgardian halls one morning. “You don’t seem yourself.”

“It’s nothing,” Loki mumbles.

It would be so sweet if things just stayed the same, wouldn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you want to, please leave comments and kudos, as they motivate me to keep creating and writing for you! Next week, I'll be releasing Chapter Five, "CHERRY" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


	5. CHERRY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does he take you walking 'round his parents' gallery?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Five of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Cherry. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.  
> A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

The only thing worse than breaking up with someone is hearing that they’ve taken another lover.

It’s been months. Loki still isn’t over you, but you’re over him, and it’s hell. He misses you, everything about you — your gorgeous eyes, your bright smile, your personality, and you. He misses you. 

It turns out that you don’t miss him nearly as much. It seems like… like he _blinked,_ and you were over him. You cut off all contact, all emails and texts. You left him your number, though, just in case that in twenty years or so, you’d want to talk again.

_“We can still be friends, baby…”_

_“Don’t call me ‘baby’,” you had muttered._

* * *

You’ve recently met someone. Loki doesn’t know his name, nor does he care to find out. All he does know — thanks to gossip — is that this new person has an art gallery, owned by his parents.

Loki had smirked at that when he had found out. Asgard’s palace has a ton of art galleries, filled with portraits and historic relics, like the Eternal Flame and the Casket of Ancient Winters. In his opinion, those are much more interesting than any mundane art on Midgard…

 _Does he take you walking ‘round his parents’ gallery?_ Loki wonders. _Do you enjoy it?_

He gets no answer from you, and he sighs into his pillow, the air around him stuffy and constricting.

 _Coucou,_ you whisper.

His eyes shoot open, but you are not there. Exhausted, he runs a hand over his face, wiping the sweat off of his face. Even when wearing only boxers, he sweats bullets. Odd… for a Jotun.

His thoughts get the better of him, and they nag and hit his brain. They have free reign, though he tries to silence them. 

_Does she call him “baby”? She probably does. She calls him what she used to call you._

His thoughts drift — to, oddly, the outfits you used to wear: one-piece jumpsuits, shorts and t-shirts, crop tops and sweatpants… all things cozy and sexy. He thinks back to a coat he wears — one you gave to him for a birthday. You both wore it.

 _There’s a piece of you in how I dress,_ he thinks. _Even now._

Loki thinks of you… the accent you put on when _you_ spoke in French. He misses your accent. It was so gorgeous, so smooth and elegant. It was almost as if you were French yourself…

 _Were you?_ He realizes with horror that he’s forgotten. _Oh, Norns. It’s been so long, and we haven’t talked lately._

 _I still... I still talk to your friends, though._ He suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Even that — talking to your friends — seems like too much now, but it’s what he needs. Some connection to you.

He wonders if he’d ever be able to talk to your...

Your...

Your lover. Your _chérie._

What would your lover say? After everything that you had probably told him?

 _Fuck off,_ he’d say. _You never loved her. You never deserved her._

The fact is so obvious but so agonizing:

Loki doesn’t wanna be alone.

 _Coucou,_ you sing.

There’s a moment where his sadness peaks, where all his thoughts come to a climax of volume, intensity, and frequency. He wants to cry, to scream, to cuddle you close and to fuck you into the mattress.

When that passes, he _does_ cry. He releases it all, and lets himself go in his grief.

He grips his sheets, sobbing into the open air, with his eyes shut tight and his teeth gritted. He shudders, careful not to make a lot of noise. 

As he cries, your voice comes back.

_‘Coucou ! Tu dors ? Oh, j'suis désolée...’_

_You were talking to a friend on the phone, a friend you had met from France a few years back. There was a pause._

_‘Bah non... Nan, c'est pas important...’_

_Whatever your friend had mentioned was not important to you._

_‘Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on—’_

_Loki had smiled when you mentioned the beach._

_‘Parfait ! Allez !’_

_And then you had gone out, to meet your friend at the mall. He had stayed at the house, reading his books and thinking of you._

Your voice fades, and so does the memory. Loki’s awake-ness leaves as well, and he cries himself to sleep for the first time in a millennium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you want to, please leave comments and kudos, as they motivate me to keep creating and writing for you! Next week, I'll be releasing Chapter Six, "FALLING" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


	6. FALLING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gets the feeling that you'll never need him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Six of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by Falling. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.
> 
> A NOTE: EACH CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL BE A TIME SKIP FROM THE LAST CHAPTER. NO CHAPTER'S PLOT WILL OCCUR DIRECTLY AFTER ANOTHER.

In his dream, he cries like Alice, and the room fills with tears. He can feel himself rising in the water, his clothes somehow able to keep him from sinking. The water is a crystal clear blue, and the sunlight outside streams in from the windows in pieces, shattered by the blinds. It fills the water with a soft golden glow, decorating his hands and his tables and chairs and the walls.

In his heart lies a stone, one that weighs him down and makes his chest ache with hunger and need and grief, as he thinks of you. _Pathetic,_ he thinks. _Even in my dreams I cannot stop thinking about her._

* * *

On the wall rest paintings and pictures, all framed and elegant and lovely. Midgardian art. You are there, too, in all your gorgeous, naked glory. Frozen, both in time and in the bed. You smile, mischievously, your breasts and hips all exposed and bare before him.

Him then, and him now.

His cock is hard, even in his dreams.

_You’re not here,_ he thinks, addressing you... or, rather, no one in particular. _I’m dreaming. I’m in my bed and you’re not here._ His thoughts pause, and he lets a couple of air bubbles rise to the water’s surface. _And there’s no one to blame but me... the drink and my wandering hands._

_The sex. The drinking. You never wanted that, did you?_

He wants to take it back. In his dream, he knows it. He does not have to say it, nor think of it. It’s an unseen thought, an unheard one. He wants to go back to that night, the sunset night, the amber-colored room night, and tell you he loves you.

So that you’d come back to him.

_Forget what I said,_ he’d say. _It’s not what I meant._ But, a lingering thought in his mind lets him know:

_But you’d be lying to her again._

And what would _you_ say? He imagines you scoffing, maybe wiping a tear away from your eye, but saying nothing.

He imagines how you are now. He doesn’t know if you look or sound different, but he has an idea of what you’re saying. You don’t talk about him. You don’t _want_ to talk about him. He knows you in _that_ regard.

The water seeps through his clothes, chilling him to the bone. He flexes his fingers through it, letting the coldness spread to the areas in between them.

_This water... it seems so peaceful,_ he thinks. _I wonder if I could stay here. Stay here and let myself go. Drown._ He closes his eyes, and he smirks when he thinks, _Drowning in my own tears. How pathetic._

“I care about you, y’know. I miss you.”

You had said that last week, on the phone. His heart had sped up frantically. But you also said, “And it kills me, because I know we’ve run of things we can say,” and he was not prepared for that. Your voice was shaky, angry, broken. He had never wanted that for you.

The dread seeps in like the water around him. _What am I now? I’m me, but I’m not someone for someone. For you. What if I’m someone you don’t want around?_

At last, he falls, and in his dream, he _does_ drown. He lets himself stay there, letting his lungs and chest ache until nothing hurts anymore.

_I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again._

He thinks of that - not being needed by someone. And in his last moments of sleep, that thought hurts him the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you want to, please leave comments and kudos, as they motivate me to keep creating and writing for you! Next week, I'll be releasing Chapter Seven, "TO BE SO LONELY" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


	7. TO BE SO LONELY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's just an arrogant son of a bitch who can't admit when he's sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Seven of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by To Be So Lonely. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.

There is a time where an itch arises.

It comes in the early afternoon, where the white walls of Loki’s living room are alight with the soft golden sun, and the old, vintage, beige phone is sitting on the coffee table.

He supposes the itch is there, also, because he is wildly and completely drunk. His mind is elsewhere, and he cannot control his thoughts nor his actions.

He has had a millennium of experience with drunkenness and sobriety, but mostly drunkenness. The tales are true - when under mead’s influence, he becomes foolish, wistful, reckless, but he stays ever cunning and proud. Oftentimes, his drinking caused him to be banished from Odin’s halls, for his words had become insults, and he had spoken truths that the Aesir and Vanir had not wanted to hear about themselves. When those times arose, God of Mischief had not lied, but he had offended, and so he was sent away. That is until the gods needed his cunning again. So the cycle went.

But this time, he knows that his cunning will not save him.

_You arrogant son of a bitch._

* * *

He wants to call you. He wants to call you and apologize, to take it all back, invite you over, and settle things over a bottle of wine, or a cup of coffee. Running a sweaty, clammy hand over his face, he sighs. Everyone makes it look so easy, calling someone on the phone.

He dials the number, letting his fingers run over the smooth, circular dial. The phone itself feels warm in his hand. He hears the ringing, his heart pounding in his chest.

Then,

“Hello?”

Loki’s mind races, and yet all thoughts are incoherent. He decides to go all out, completely off the rails. Everything he wants to say, he’ll say - right here, right now.

“Look,” he slurs, “don’ blame me for doing this - calling you.”

“L-Loki?” you stammer, incredulous. “Wh-”

“Wasn’t ready for it all,” he says, and you can hear a smile. “Don’t blame me for falling…”

“What the hell, Loki? What are you talking about -”

“You can’t blame me, darling,” he whispers suddenly. “Not even a little bit. I wanted to hear your voice again.”

“Are you _drunk?”_ you ask, your voice rising.

“Ah,” he says as if thinking. “Yes.”

You should’ve hung up right then and there. You should’ve put your own phone down, back on the receiver, and went along with your day.

“I’m not ready to hear you yet,” you say.

“Not ready?” he cries. _“Not ready?”_ He chuckles angrily. “I’m sure you don’t say that to your new friend. The boy with an art gallery. I’m sure he’s inside you every night, isn’t he? Not ready…”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss. “Shut up.”

“So I’ve struck a nerve, have I? Good. Now you’re vulnerable. Now you’ll listen, won’t you? Because you most certainly _are_ ready to hear from me, eh? You just don’t want to. Well, then, you shouldn’t have left me your number…”

“What… do... you want?” your voice asks quietly, completely enraged.

“Baby, I was stupid. An arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry.” Now, for a second, his drunkenness clears. “I care. I miss you. And you’ve said that. You care and you miss me, too, huh?”

A pause. “You’re -” Then, a laugh. “You’re sorry?” You laugh more, but he remembers that this is what you sound like when you mask a sob or two. “You’re sorry for what you said? What you wanted?” He hears you take a breath. “Loki Laufeyson. Fuck. You.

“All you ever wanted was a place to get off. You used me, ok? You wanted me around only to think about later, when I wasn’t there. Your hands were always on me -”

“You wanted it.”

“I did, yes!” you cry. “I did! But that’s _all_ you wanted! You never wanted me to love you! You never wanted to date, to get married, have kids, I-”

“We were courting,” he seethes. “For six m-”

“Courting?” A sniff from your end. “That’s what you call it.”

“I can change,” he says, his hand gripping the phone now. “You know I can. I’ve done it before - with my brother, with the Avengers. I’ve turned my life around.”

“Says the drunk calling his ex three months after the breakup, huh?” He can now hear you clearly - you’re sobbing. “I miss you, of course, I do. I’ll always love you. But all you ever want me for is my body. You don’t love me at all. And that’s why I can’t go back to you.

“It’s hard, y’know. It’s hard for me to go home. To be so... lonely. And yeah, I’ve got - I’ve got Brendan here. I’m going to marry him, I think. That’s what I like to think. Because he values me for me. He doesn’t want to just fuck me and say he adores me after. He says he loves me. You couldn’t even do that.

“I’m happy with him, Loki. I’m over you, I think. It’s time for you to move on, too.”

For once, the ever-talkative God of Lies is silent. Sobered. Shaking.

“Oh, and Loki?”

He perks up.

“Don’t call me ‘baby’ again.”

The call ends. You’ve hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you want to, please leave comments and kudos, as they motivate me to keep creating and writing for you! Next week, I'll be releasing Chapter Eight, "SHE" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


	8. SHE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's thinking of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Chapter Eight of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by She. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.  
> Oh yeah, um... Happy Valentine's Day. ;)

Days, weeks, months pass, and Loki is moving on…

Is what he wants to think.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it? You’ve moved on. You’ve become the girlfriend of another man, one that treats you well. You’re happy with him. And Loki… well…

Loki is stuck in his bed, a bottle of the drink always beside the bed. Loki is stuck thinking about you until he can’t take it anymore, and the only way to get his feelings out is to imagine you. To think of you.

His thoughts wander, like they always do. To the realities that you could’ve had together, to the scenarios that may have been.

_Nine in the morning, the man drops his kids off at school._

Kids? Marriage?

He admits, the thought of kids does sound nice. A little you and a little Loki running around, causing mischief and laughter and—

He shakes his head. _No._

 _And he’s thinking of you._ Now, only you live in his daydreams. You’re the first one he sees... But you’re unknown to him, only a familiar form with a blurry face and an unfamiliar voice. He can’t remember everything, even with his godly mind, and you’re almost gone entirely...

Almost.

He can imagine how you felt... He can imagine that you are still

* * *

“There,” you say. “Part one? All done.”

“What is this, my love?” Loki asks, coming into the living room. His eyes and face are lit up by the tiny little white string lights that cover the room in a soft golden hue. The rest of the room is dark, dim, bare.

“It’s a...” you start, fumbling for words. “It’s... hmph. I don’t know. It’s part of my blanket fort.”

“Blanket fort?”

“Yeah!” you say excitedly, abandoning your confusion. “I... haven’t made that, though. I was setting things up, and I was gonna surprise you with it!”

“You’re adorable, you know,” Loki says with an amused hum. “How about we make this... blanket fort you speak of. We can set sleeping bags and pillows up, so we can sleep. How’s that sound?”

You end up doing just that. And, well, things go a little further from there.

There's blush on his cheeks, and on yours. "Do you..." Loki asks hesitantly. "Do you want to? If not that's—"

"Yes," you say, trusting him with your life.

Under all of the lights, coloring the room pink and white, you and Loki make love. It hurts you only for a moment, then all you know is pleasure. Loki, on top of you, holding you with such tenderness and heart. You, below him, gripping onto him and sighing out your moans and whimpers.

Oh, if you only thought it through...

For this is your downfall. For the both of you. Here starts a flawed, empty, selfish man and a woman who's head over heels.

He drives into you slowly — all is a slow, powerful rolling sea, with crashing waves and lightning strikes and a tempest of emotions, all wrapped up into a little blanket fort.

You're gasping, clawing at his bare skin and he's grunting softly against your shoulder, kissing there when he can. "My love..." he gasps. "You are divine. You feel.... wonderful."

Your head spins, and the waves build into a swirling, growing crescendo, you finally moan into the air.

You glance upward, seeing the stars on your ceiling, and when the waves come crashing down and plunge you into the deep intensity of climax, you feel completely and entirely safe. Loved. Wanted.

You cry out, "Oh

fuck," Loki gasps.

Loki comes into his hand and onto the bed, his hand racing up and down his cock. He blinks, and sees a dark room, lifeless and bare. You're nowhere to be found. In fact, you're halfway across the world, it seems.

His semen dries on his bedsheets.

_Lives for a memory_

_A woman who's just in his head_

_And she sleeps in his bed_

_While he plays pretend,_

his thoughts sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, thanks for reading! In two weeks, I will be posting Chapter Nine, "SUNFLOWER, VOL. 6" both here and on my Tumblr. Here's a kiss - mwah.


End file.
